Retrograde
by Kaye Fraser
Summary: The patrol was as run-of-the-mill as any other patrol on any other night. Yet, Alec came home a little different, and Magnus and Jace can't seem to figure out why.
1. Prologue: Taken

Author's Notes:

Hello,

I don't write much fanfiction anymore, but apparently, when I do, it seems to be for fandoms that have a target demo for an audience half my age. I must be hitting an early mid-life crisis or something. Anyways, I ended up catching the Shadowhunters TV series a while back and for all its flaws, was sort of taken with the dynamics between Magnus and Alec. So, as a result, I found myself catching up on the many years of fanfiction to fill a small void when the first season ended. Alas, I seemed to still want more, so decided to just write something, and get it out of my system.

And here's the result: my first (and maybe only) foray into this fandom. Please accept my apologies for any awkward phrasing or pacing, since I don't have an editor for this and I tend to get carried away when left unchecked. As well, because I'm only going off the television series, it'll take me a bit to get the characters and mythology right, so I may have taken some license there.

Lastly, the disclaimer: these characters don't belong to me, but to their respective copyrighted owners. I'm just taking them for a test spin, and do not profit from anything here.

Other than that, please enjoy, and happy reading!

Cheers,

Kaye

(***)

 _Retrograde  
Prologue: Taken_

(***)

He was going to kill Jace.

Alec absently rotated his right shoulder, and tried to work out the soreness. Not only had his beloved - and he used that term very loosely at the moment - parabatai rushed headlong into a demon fight without a plan of attack earlier that night, but he had to do it at the water treatment plant down by the East River. The recklessness wasn't unusual. In fact, Alec would've been surprised if Jace hadn't behaved recklessly, but fate certainly hadn't been on his side when he'd misjudged the ferocity of their targets and had somehow ended up a bit wetter than he'd expected.

Alec rounded the block and caught a whiff of the smell that still lingered on his skin. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Not wanting to bring the stench back to Magnus' loft, he'd rinsed off as best he could at the Institute, but he swore the sewage had seeped into his pores and likely crept into crevices he didn't know existed.

Yes, a slow and painful death for Jace, he mused. Preferably with many sharp objects and a variety of pointy things. In a room full of ducks.

He'd have to take a more thorough shower when he got back to the loft; it was something Alec didn't feel inclined to do, considering that he was bone-tired. It had been a few minutes shy of 2am when he'd left the Institute, and there was nothing he would've liked more than to simply fall into bed and sleep.

The neon sign of a familiar pizzeria came into view, and Alec let out a relieved sigh. It was a mental marker of sorts for him, a comforting indicator that home was just over a block away.

Home. He didn't know when he'd started to think of it as that. Somewhere along the way, it'd become his refuge, a haven, a safe place where he could simply ... be. The Institute, with all its spartan amenities and functional decor, had somehow been relegated to his place of work. And frankly, he couldn't wait to get away from there at the end of the day. He was more anxious to head 'home', curl up beside Magnus, put his long day behind him, and turn himself off.

He took a few more steps before he paused. He didn't know what had stopped him, but something inside him, some instinct he knew not to ignore, kept his body unmoving. His tiredness melted away as a rush of adrenalin washed through him, and his muscles tensed.

There was a stillness in the air, like the earth had taken a deep breath, and was just waiting that infinitesimal second before exhaling. It was a sensation Alec had experienced countless times in his life: those precious heartbeats before a fight when his mind honed in on the singular purpose of survival and his senses became indeterminately more acute. He cautiously reached down toward his belt, silently grateful he'd decided to wear some of his gear home. His fingers touched the hilt of his blade as his eyes darted back and forth, searching for whatever shadows lurked around him. The buzz of the pizzeria sign cut through the deserted streets, such a normal thing this time of night, and yet, it felt ... abnormal.

He was glamoured, so he knew whatever stalked him was not of the mundane variety, but the unfamiliar position of being the prey instead of the hunter caused his pulse to thrum loudly in his ears.

And then ...

A cat screeched from a nearby alleyway, and sprinted across the road, leaving a clatter of trash cans in its wake.

Alec watched the stray speed away. His posture relaxed as he let out a relieved breath. He ran his fingers through his hair, and gave his face a sobering scrub. By the Angel, he must be more tired than he'd initially thought, especially if he'd assumed a cat to be a potential threat.

He needed to get some sleep. Determined to get home, he continued on his way.

The attack came from nowhere. Or rather, it had come from somewhere, but his guard was down, and he wasn't ready for it.

The impact against the side of his body sent him to the ground. Yet, he didn't have time to dwell on it as reflex from the thousands of hours of training took over, and he used the momentum to propel himself into a roll. He'd scarcely regained his footing when the next hit followed. The roundhouse kick came at him fast, and Alec barely had time to block it before dodging another punch. The lack of light kept his enemy's features frustratingly obscured. Whoever – or whatever – was fighting him was human – or looked human at least - and was unbelievably skilled.

He was on the defensive, his half-formed blocks narrowly protecting his vital areas from the rapid succession of attacks. And had Alec not already fought off a horde of demons earlier that night, he might've been a match. As it was, he couldn't mount any semblance of a counter, and was huffing for breath in minutes. His muscles screamed bloody murder at the abuse as a well-aimed kick snuck passed his deflecting arm, and landed squarely on his chest.

The air left his lungs in a rush as he fell back and slid several feet along the rough pavement. He didn't even want to think about the road rash he'd get from that. Laying there, unable to move, his mind tried to get his body to breathe again, to force his chest to expand so that he could take in some blessed, much-needed oxygen. Panic began to well up inside his stomach, a tight, uncomfortable spasm that threatened to consume every functioning part of him.

He had to get up. He had to retreat. There was no way he could win here, and - to borrow a phrase from the mundane world - it would be a cold day in hell before he allowed himself to die alone on some deserted street in Brooklyn. He'd never hear the end of it from Jace.

With more effort than he'd anticipated, he managed to flip himself over, but he'd only pushed himself up a few inches when his opponent's knee dug into his back, and forced him back down onto the ground.

He let out a strangled protest when his right arm was wrenched behind him, effectively immobilizing his body. The sudden pressure on his shoulder and elbow revealed much about his attacker. Only well-trained fighters knew how to neutralize him like this; there was no way he could move without dislocating his shoulder or breaking a bone, and Alec was loathed to risk his dominant shooting arm by even trying.

He braced himself for the next blow, tensing when he felt his attacker's weight shift. But it never came. Instead, he was caught unaware by a hard pinch on his neck.

Almost instantly, his world spun. A needle ...

Shit.

The last thing he saw before he fell into oblivion was the blur of that red and yellow neon pizzeria sign. 

_End Prologue_


	2. Chapter 1: Imposter

_Author's Note:_

Dear Reader,

Thanks so much for sticking with me into the actual story! And thank you as well for the reviews/faves/follows! They are so very much appreciated.

On with the show then, shall we? :)

Happy reading!

Cheers,  
K.

(***)

 _Retrograde  
Chapter 1: Imposter_

(***)

Was stupidity a genetic trait? Because if it was, Magnus planned to steer clear of Sandrine's relatives.

He shook his head in disbelief and let out a resigned sigh as he flipped a page in one of his reference books. The light in his workspace was a bit too dim to make out the notes he'd scrawled near the spine over a century ago, and so, with a subdued flick of his fingers, he increased the wattage of the nearby lamp.

How, in all that was demonic, had a warlock portaled herself into a river? He was still scratching his head about that one, about why a concept as simple as spatial displacement had managed to elude even someone as young as Sandrine. Or maybe, he'd become a bit too arrogant in his old age. Then again, was it arrogance if he had the goods to back up the statement? Perhaps his scoffing at the ineptness of those younger than himself was well justified. He couldn't argue with the fact that he'd been the one they'd called at an obscene hour to fix the problem.

And fix it, he had – of course. Quite easily, in fact. Still, professional curiosity had gotten the better of him, and had left him with the need to figure out how she'd accomplished the gross miscalculation in the first place. It wasn't every day that the laws of warlock magic crossed paths with particle theory and quantum mechanics.

He vaguely remembered planning out the minutia of this magical phenomenon many, many years ago. Back then, all the trial and error experiments that he and Henry Branwell had tirelessly muddled over had eventually yielded a mind-blowing breakthrough just when they needed it. But now, well, portal-making had become so second-nature that he'd taken it for granted.

He leaned back in his seat as a small smile tugged at his lips. He'd never been one to dwell on the past – honestly, for a creature with his lifespan, he couldn't if he wanted to stay sane – but sometimes, just sometimes, he allowed himself the luxury of reminiscing on the more pleasant moments. It was rather like taking out an old, faded photograph. He would look on it a bit, let the sepia-toned feelings caress him with gentle, phantom-like figures, and then, tuck the images away in his mind again with a sense of fond nostalgia.

And tuck it away he did after just a few minutes. Even with the bottomless well of memories he harbored, Magnus preferred not to dwell too long on them. He thought himself more of a live-for-the-moment kind of man, and his chosen lifestyle made no secret of that fact.

Straightening, he leaned forward and resumed his perusal of the book. He had only gotten a few paragraphs in when he heard the door open and close on the other side of the loft.

Alexander.

Although he didn't move immediately to greet the Shadowhunter, he definitely did relish the warmth that spread through his chest in knowing the other man had returned. Their relationship had been hard-fought and hard-won, and Magnus was shameless in reaping the rewards. He was old enough to understand that what they had didn't come along often, and he'd be damned if he treated it like any other dalliance.

The sound of Alec shuffling about next door floated into his workroom, and Magnus listened with half an ear as he imagined his boyfriend putting away his gear and likely heading for the shower. He didn't know when or how, but since Alec had moved in, Magnus had begun to enjoy these moments – these casual, everyday moments – more than the overt acts of affection between them. Lovers had come and gone in his life, but these run-of-the-mill actions – coming home from work, or picking up groceries for the pantry – provided a level of comfort and intimacy he rarely experienced, if ever.

On a whim, Magnus decided to stay where he was for the time being. Let Alec seek him out for once. If the Shadowhunter didn't find him in bed fast asleep, Magnus was certain the younger man would search for him to say goodnight. He knew his lover well, insomuch as he was touched by Alec's simple consideration for those around him. Sometimes, though thankfully, not too often, Magnus wondered what he'd done in his debauched life to deserve the other man. He surely hadn't done anything grand to benefit mankind, angel-kind, or demon-kind, so either this was some sort of cosmic prank and he'd yet to hit the big punchline, or the powers that be had made a huge mistake. He preferred to think it was the latter, and when it came time to meet his maker, as they say, he would hopefully be the one to have the last laugh.

His prediction was right on the mark when he sensed Alec standing at the entrance of this workroom minutes later. Magnus gave no indication that he knew his boyfriend was there behind him, and when Alec didn't move, the half smile that had played on Magnus' lips became a loaded lopsided grin.

He was never one to shy away from attention, so, who was he to deny his boyfriend the opportunity to admire him silently?

Magnus didn't know how long they remained like that - him, pretending to work, and Alec, quietly watching - but a spark of impatience ignited inside him at the inactivity. He was just about to say 'screw it' and acknowledge his boyfriend when a strong arm wrapped around him, and warm lips pressed a reverent kiss on the side of his neck.

He savored the warmth and the touch. "Well, hello to you too, Alexander."

Alec didn't respond immediately. Instead, the Shadowhunter continued to work his mouth up along the side of his neck to a sensitive spot beneath his ear. An involuntary shiver worked its way down Magnus' spine as a quiet chuckle escaped his throat.

"If this is the reception I get when you work late, then I should encourage it more often," he murmured good-naturedly. Not that he didn't welcome the initiative, but Alec was rarely so assertive. "What's gotten you so frisky?"

Alec mumbled some unintelligible words against his skin, but didn't break from his task. Deciding to let the question slide - mainly because the actions in lieu of answers were so damn enjoyable - Magnus turned in his seat, and captured his boyfriend's wandering lips with his own.

Magnus had established long ago that he could kiss Alec for the next millennium, and never tire of it. The younger man tasted of innocence, and mint, and something uniquely Alec. He grabbed the back of his boyfriend's neck, fingers threading through that soft hair, and deepened the kiss. His tongue darted out, playfully taunting his partner's lips before demanding entrance. A pleased moan vibrated through Magnus when Alec complied without any resistance, and all of a sudden, the tone changed. It was as if that one little sound had opened a floodgate holding back a tide of need and hunger. Assertiveness gave way to aggression, and reverence became urgency.

Magnus hit the edge of the table at the force with which Alec had pushed forward, and through the heated haze of desire, his internal warning bells rang. Frustration and worry mixed together for a sobering slap as he pulled away.

"Alec," he said lowly between heavy breaths. "What's wrong?"

He stared directly into that focused gaze, searching for some physical clue as to why the Shadowhunter seemed so ... so off. Behind those passion-infused eyes was a haunted quality that squeezed at Magnus' heart. He found himself mentally going through a list of what could've happened during the younger man's patrol tonight to put that look there.

But Alec didn't answer. Instead, he leaned in again to continue where they'd left off. Magnus had to place stilling hands on both sides of his face to stop him.

"Alexander." He spoke more firmly this time, fully expecting an answer. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Usually, the younger man was easy to read. But tonight, Magnus couldn't discern a single thing from his boyfriend's expression or words.

"Just leave it, Magnus." Alec avoided the question again, and recaptured his mouth with a force more brutal than before. Magnus found himself standing, the back of his legs pressing against the edge of the table. The need to find the source of Alec's pain warred with the liquid heat that languidly tainted every thought and action in his body. Books he'd been flipping through just minutes ago fell to the floor with dull thumps, but they were afterthoughts now. He couldn't have cared less what happened to those old things.

Desire had won out, seizing control and dictating terms. Within seconds, Magnus was giving as good as he got, his tongue matching his partner's stroke for stroke, and hands working frantically on belts and buttons in anticipation of feeling bare flesh. And holy fuck, was he ever aroused. It would likely remain a mystery until the end of time how all Alec had to do was look at him the right way, and he could have a full erection.

His fingers moved quickly, deftly, as they worked their way across familiar rune-covered skin, absently registering the firm muscle straining beneath it all. They made their way down, exploring, kneading, but when they slid under the waistband of Alec's unbuttoned pants, they were abruptly brushed away.

An elegant eyebrow rose in question. Magnus broke their contact to ask what the younger man was up to, but all he could do was gasp as Alec reach down and grabbed his cock.

"Shit, Alec-" His breath hitched in surprise as the other man started to stroke and fondle him. Where in bloody hell had his usually shy boyfriend learned to do this?

Without pause, Alec's mouth worked its way down his neck again, licking and sucking and biting, leaving a rapidly cooling trail in its wake. Somewhere, sometime, Magnus' shirt had been ripped open, the buttons having flown to who knew where. Which was a pity, the warlock mused, watching with hooded eyes as his lover's dark head move lower. It was a John Varvatos, and he'd really grown quite fond of it.

A rush of scorching blood carried pinpoints of fire to every atom of his being, dancing along his skin and pooling in his dick. It caused a hypersensitivity that Magnus both hated and relished. And when those warm, moist lips clamped down on a nipple, he found himself surrendering a battle he didn't know he'd been fighting. His hand came up, and he threaded his fingers through his lover's hair, pulling him closer. He tilted his head back, and hissed in pain when Alec's teeth nipped at the hardened nub, but a sound of pure pleasure quickly followed when the younger man began to lave it with his tongue. The glamour dropped from his eyes just then, and he knew they glowed with an otherworldly light.

Magnus let the Shadownhunter throw all the attention he wanted on his body, mainly because he simply didn't have the strength or will to do otherwise. Alec worked his mouth masterfully, going from one nipple to the other, and taking care to ensure not an inch of skin was neglected. Belatedly, Magnus realized that his pants and underwear had somehow pooled around his ankles, exposing him in all his erect glory to his lover. The hand that had been so expertly stroking him disappeared, but before Magnus could protest, Alec dropped down on his knees and replaced it with his mouth.

"Fuck, Alec..."

The corners of the lips wrapped around his cock tilted up wickedly. He saw the intensity in the Shadownhunter's eyes beneath those impossibly long lashes, and in that moment, had Alec asked for the sun, the moon, and the starts, Magnus would've moved heaven and hell to wrap them in a tidy little bow for him.

And then, Alec's mouth began to work - sucking him, teasing him, killing him, right from the base to the tip. Magnus gasped as his lover's tongue slid over the slit with its velvety texture, one arm moving quickly to brace himself on the table as his legs lost the ability to support him. Instinctively, his back arched, and he thrust his hips forward, wanting more, even as the built-up tension became unbearable. His breaths became heavy, his pulse racing, and just when Magnus thought his body would expire from overstimulation, he came.

He blanked out briefly, existing in a state where sight and sound and life were inconsequential, but slowly, surely, the world began to right itself. He noticed the shelves, the books, and all the ornamental knick-knacks in his workroom come back into focus with heavy-lidded eyes, and wished reality would stay away for just a while longer. He liked it here, here in this space where it was simply his Alexander and himself, and where nothing and no one else mattered.

But Alec rose, and his little self-illusion shattered. Magnus watched, intrigued, at the inexplicably sinful expression on his lover's face - eyes shining with dark intent, and lips coated with his semen. He wanted to reach out and touch him, to assure himself that this beautiful creature was truly real and truly his. Yet, before he could find the strength to move, Alec leaned forward and kissed him again, deeply, passionately, and desperately. Magnus tasted the bitterness of his earlier ejaculation lingering in the younger man's mouth, but it was quickly eclipsed by a need and a want that pierced soul-deep.

With willpower he didn't know he still harbored, Magnus broke their contact, and pulled back. He didn't know what had gotten into Alec - what he had seen, or what he had done - but he would gladly, and without hesitation, do what was necessary to ease whatever was haunting his lover.

"Let's move this to somewhere more comfortable, shall we?" Magnus said breathlessly, surprised his voice still worked.

Alec paused for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, without a word, he nodded, and pulled Magnus hurriedly toward the bedroom.

(***)

Magnus didn't know what woke him up. His eyes opened slowly, and in that moment between wakefulness and sleep, his heart skipped a beat, and his stomach fluttered as if his subconscious was trying to warn him of some impending danger. But then, full consciousness took over, and he realized he was safely ensconced in a warm cocoon of blankets. He shifted in his bed, and smiled sleepily as a number of sore muscles throughout his body reminded him of what he'd been doing the previous night. Or was that, this morning?

The gray, pre-dawn light that filtered in through his curtains told him it was early. Very early. Ungodly even. He couldn't have been asleep for more than a couple of hours. He and Alec had been so involved in their 'extracurricular activities' that he was fairly certain they hadn't fallen asleep, exhausted and spent, until the wee hours of the morning. And while he could appreciate the work that went into causing his body's delicious soreness, he had thought that fucking his brains out all night would've entitled him to at least sleeping in.

Which brought him back to his initial question: what had woken him up?

His arm slid out to the right side of the bed, expecting to find another warm body just as tired as he was. Instead, it met cold, empty space. His brows drew together in concern. So much for some early morning cuddling. He hadn't forgotten about what had precipitated Alec's and his diversion earlier. Something must've happened last night to prompt the neediness in the Shadowhunter, and he intended to find out what.

He made to turn over, but as he did so, he had a strange feeling someone was watching him. It was an odd sensation - much like a spider dancing along the back of his neck - and one he wasn't used to in his own home. Reluctantly, he pushed the bed covers down, and looked over at the bedroom door.

Nothing.

Goosebumps formed on his bare skin, and he shivered. Whether that was from being exposed to the cooler ambient air, or this feeling he couldn't explain, he didn't know, but the unease remained, sitting heavy in his mind.

"Alec?" he called out. Surely it was too early to head into the Institute for training already, even for someone as dedicated as Alec. He didn't hear a response, but he did pick up on some movement in the next room. Bidding a fond farewell to his comfortable, cozy bed, he got up, grabbed his robe off the nearby chair to ward off the morning chill, and padded softly toward the sound.

He stopped short of fully entering the common area. One of the benefits of living in a loft was the open concept design, and being able to take in everything with one quick look. And so, as he stepped into his dining space, he could see Alec standing on the other side in front of the large window, staring out into the dimming lights of a waking city. Magnus didn't know if the Shadowhunter was aware of his presence, but he certainly took a moment to admire the broad shouldered figure of his boyfriend. The sight had a rather artistic quality to it: the expert strokes painting an outline of a brooding warrior against a backdrop of the emerging sun, looking out beyond those windows into an endless sea of unseen battles and endless conflict. Magnus was almost loathed to disturb it.

But he did. Quietly, he approached the other man from behind, and wrapped his arms around that narrow waist. Judging from the non-reaction he received, Alec had probably known he'd been there the whole time. Magnus pressed a brief kiss to the bare shoulder, and savored the warmth that came from his lover's shirtless torso.

"Now, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he asked softly.

"Nothing's wrong, Magnus," Alec replied after a few seconds. He neither turned around nor moved away, so Magnus reveled in their contact and the comforting rumble of his companion's voice a little longer.

He would never have pegged Alec as enigmatic or mysterious - his emotions were often written on his face or evident in his tone for all to see and hear - but that response was a perfect example of an answer that answered nothing.

"When did you become such a good liar, darling?" Magnus stepped away and moved to stand beside the younger man. He stared out at the fading city streetlights, so tiny and insignificant in scale from where they stood, and wondered what his boyfriend found so fascinating about them.

"I'm not lying."

Magnus cast a sidelong glance toward the Shadowhunter at those flat words. The early morning light bathed that handsome profile into harsh angles and planes, and for the first time, Magnus couldn't read the man. He didn't like it.

He watched Alec closely for a moment, his mind working frantically to figure out what was going on. "Alec -"

"Do you ever wonder what our lives would've been like if we'd never met?"

The abrupt question silenced Magnus completely. Where had that come from?

"Alexander." He stopped. This was perhaps one of the rare occasions where he didn't know what to say. He set his mouth into a more serious line, and opted not to play the charming, feckless warlock he was accustomed to. In its place was a somber, more business-like demeanor. "No, I have not wondered such a thing," he said in a low tone. "It was a conscious decision that I made long ago. I can't dwell on the 'could've beens'. If my thoughts strayed that way, I would slowly lose my mind. It's simple self-preservation. Unlike you, I don't think in terms of years or decades. My frame of reference is in centuries and millennia, and suffering any kind of regret for a decision I made or didn't make for that length of time would drive even the strongest mind crazy. And frankly, despite all my bragging, I'm not really that strong."

Magnus watched Alec's expression harden as he spoke, and for a fleeting second, he almost didn't recognize the man who stood beside him. His heart broke to see this happening and not know what had caused it. He reached out to touch him, wanting to erase those inexplicable lines that had formed on the Shadowhunter's face, but before he could, Alec turned away.

"I'll be at the Institute," the younger man said as he made for the bedroom, presumably to get dressed.

Magnus stood frozen for an instant, arm slightly raised and mouth partially open. Well, that was unexpected. Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, did not get brushed off like that, least of all by his own boyfriend. It stung. He knew he hadn't done anything to warrant such treatment, but it still hurt that Alec hadn't sought him out and shared what was bothering him.

He considered following the younger man, and questioning him until everything was out in the open, but he was not 'that' type of boyfriend. Flirtatious and bold, in an endearing sort of way, yes, but there was one thing he was not, and that was clingy. Although a part of him hated the idea, he reminded himself to let the Shadowhunter be, and trust Alec to confide in him when he was ready.

Within minutes, Alec emerged in his habitual dark attire. He quickly gathered the gear he'd discarded by the door the previous night, and didn't spare a glance Magnus' way, which hurt more than the warlock cared to admit. The whole time, Magnus watched without a word. He wanted to say something, but the serious set of his boyfriend's features stayed his tongue momentarily. Still, long silences had always made him uneasy, and he didn't like the oppressive one that had fallen over them.

"Don't forget my party tonight," he ended up saying with false cheer, thinking it was a neutral enough topic to mention. "Being the High Warlock of Brooklyn for twenty years deserves some sort of celebration, I would think!"

Alec paused briefly at his comment before he inclined his head slightly in response. Then, he exited the loft, leaving Magnus with the uncharacteristically loud click of the door latch.

(***)

The air seemed colder than usual.

Or so Alec thought when he turned over. His groggy mind took a moment to register the hard pressure points against his body when the startling realization finally sank in. His eyes popped open, and his lungs suffered a sharp intake of breath.

This was not the Institute. Nor was this Magnus' loft. No, wherever he was, it was cold and dusty and just a little bit damp. He didn't move right away, preferring to carefully assess his immediate environment for danger before letting on that he was fully awake.

He was alone. That much he could tell by sound. There was no movement, no shuffling, no breaths save his own. The only thing he could make out was the distant, rhythmic echo of dripping water.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, and had to wait a few seconds before the room stopped spinning and his nausea subsided. Memories started to slowly trickle back into his molasses-thick brain: the routine patrol, the long walk home, the surprise attack.

Shit, what kind of mess had he gotten himself into now?

He looked around at his surroundings as he rubbed his temples and willed the throbbing to stop. There was nothing but gray walls on all sides, the dull monotony broken by one small window eight feet off the ground and a heavy-looking door that Alec bet was locked. A prison... he was in a makeshift prison of concrete and steel.

"Well, aren't I the lucky one?" he muttered to himself, and noticed the dryness in his mouth. He felt around his waist, and checked his pockets. No weapons, no phone, and no stele. Nothing. Not that he'd expected otherwise.

With a pained grunt, he pushed himself up. His body didn't like the new position, and he had to will his legs to remain steady to avoid a graceless tumble back onto the hard floor. Moving with the speed of a man five times his age, he made his way to the door, and tried to turn the handle on the slimmest chance his assumption had been wrong.

Locked.

He rammed it a few times with his shoulder, and met with no give. It was solid and likely bolted from the outside.

Fuck.

He leaned forward, rested his forehead on the frame, and breathed deeply to maintain some semblance of calm. It was then that he noticed all the provisions. A pile of canned food, bottles of water, and even a bucket for what Alec assumed was waste all sat innocently in the far corner of the room, tucked away from view until that moment, when the light from the window made it visible. He walked over, his strides steadier now that the effects of whatever drug had been in his system began to fade, and grabbed a bottle of water. Breaking the seal on the lid, he downed the whole thing in record time, and basked in the feel of the liquid against his parched throat. He didn't know who or what had attacked him, but if he had to face that enemy again, he might as well do it well-hydrated.

Letting out a tired sigh, he sank back down on the ground, and leaned up against the wall. A quick glance at his watch told him it was early morning. He was sure Magnus would've noticed his absence by now, and likely raised the alarms. And if not, if Magnus hadn't noticed his absence and assumed he'd stayed overnight at the Institute, then Jace and Izzy would definitely realize he was late for training. And he, Alec Lightwood, was never late.

So, by his estimation, all he had to do then was wait.


	3. Chapter 2: Reckless

Author's Notes:

Hello,

Thanks so much for following me into the next chapter! And thank you for the reviews/faves/follows! It's so very much appreciated. I hope you're enjoying this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I'll leave you to it, shall I?

Cheers,  
K.

(***)

 _Retrograde  
Chapter 2: Reckless_

(***)

Jace hit the mat hard - as in bone jarring, teeth rattling hard.

"Shit, Alec, I thought we were just doing some _light_ sparring." He glared accusingly at his adoptive brother. He wasn't sure what hurt more - his ass or his pride. Alec never got the upper hand on him in close contact combat, and he couldn't say he was too fond of his current circumstance: him laying stunned on the mat, and Alec in a ready stance, staring down at him from the power position.

"Hey, if this is about last night, I totally didn't see that Ravener slip by me. I swear it must've been hiding somewhere," he remarked as he pushed himself up with a wince. "Besides, all the sewage washed off okay anyways, right?"

He threw the other man his usual feckless grin, fully expecting that trademark glower of disapproval to turn into grudging forgiveness. Instead, Alec watched him with a dark expression, one that Jace had never seen before. There was an intensity there that seemed foreign on the usually quiet, contemplative demeanor. His grin faded a bit.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. His tone remained light, but his question was sincere. "Because as your parabatai, I'm contractually obligated to help."

Alec's posture eased up at his words, and yet, to Jace's trained eye, there was a tension still lurking just below the surface. He wondered what had put his training partner so on edge.

"Unless it has to do with Magnus and your love life," he added, secretly hoping Alec hadn't reverted to bottling up whatever was bothering him like he used to. Ever since his parabatai had hooked up with the warlock, there was a certain lightness about him, as if some restrictive chain had been tying him down before, and now, free from the binding, he could truly move around like he was supposed to. And although Jace would never state it out loud, he preferred to see his brother behaving in the latter manner.

"In which case," he continued, "that's in Isabelle's job description. Not mine."

His levity had the sticking power of butter on Teflon, which was to say, it didn't work. Jace moved to the side of the room, and grabbed a towel, all the while, covertly watching his training partner. That stoic set of the other Shadowhunter's features still remained, not a single crack visible in that somber shell.

Weird.

"I heard my name!" came a decidedly feminine voice from the entryway, followed by the confident cadence of impossibly high heels. "What have I been volunteered for this time?"

Jave gave the newcomer his most charming smile. He'd been told it was a smile that could melt the coldest hearts, and he wielded it like all his weapons - with great abandon and a dash of devilishness. "Izzy," he drawled. "I would never volunteer you for anything without your permission. Besides, even if I did, it's because I know you'd be better at it."

Isabelle rolled her eyes at him. "Bullshit."

All Jace did in response was give her a wink as he toweled the sweat from his hair. He may tease and test the patience of his siblings endlessly, but he knew they still loved him nonetheless. Just as much as he loved them.

"What do you have there, Izzy? A mission?" Alec asked in his all-business voice. There was no greeting, no pleasantry, just right down to work.

Jace threw a puzzled looked at his parabatai before he focused in on the folder clutched in Isabelle's hand. Alec had always been the most serious one out of them all, but since meeting Magnus ...

"Yeah, three mundane deaths in as many days," Isabelle cut off his train of thought. "Their bodies were found in Central Park by random joggers the last few mornings."

"Why does it involve us? Could be mundane killing mundane," he supplied as he dropped his towel back down on the bench.

"Well, unless humans have developed very sharp teeth, and learned to maul -"

"We can check it out," Alec interrupted Izzy as he grabbed the folder from her hands. He started to flip through the pages with a look of deep concentration on his face, seemingly oblivious to the surprised expression Isabelle gave him. She then looked over at Jace with a questioning arch of her eyebrow.

Jace shrugged. He was as much in the dark about their brother as she was, despite just having spent the last few hours training with him. He was beginning to believe his initial suspicions of his parabatai having some fight with Magnus, but he didn't want to touch that topic with a ten-foot pole.

"Good news is, we're nowhere near any sewage treatment plants today," he said wryly.

The dig had no effect on Alec. The other man simply hardened his gaze, and closed the folder. "We need to gear up and head out. Half hour?"

Again, Jace shared a look with Izzy. At least he wasn't imagining things. She had likely concluded that something was bothering Alec as well.

"Make it an hour," he countered. "We've still got some time before it gets dark, and I can call Clary and have her meet up with us."

For some reason, Alec appeared to actually think about that course of action, like he was considering rejecting Jace's suggestion. Then, he made a sound of agreement. "Okay, one hour," he said, and strode purposefully from the room.

Isabelle moved to stand beside Jace. "What was that?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's not getting enough 'you know what'."

Izzy's response to his remark was an admonishing glare.

"Hey," he gestured defensively. "The thought of it creeps me out too, but it had to be said."

"I suppose I'll have a talk with him later." Her shoulders slumped slightly, and Jace could see the concern in her eyes. If he had to pick on one word to describe Izzy, 'loyal' would definitely be near the top.

"Better you than me," he quipped. "Now, let's get going before we're late, and Mr. Grumpy Cat chews us up and spits us out like his favorite chew toy."

(***)

He was bored.

No, correction, he was monumentally bored.

Alec had always prided himself on being the patient one - he had to be, given who he had for siblings - but he'd quickly realized that his patience came with a caveat. He usually had something to divert his attention while he waited: his phone, a book, some forgotten task he hadn't had time to do. But here, in the disturbingly dull prison, there was nothing.

Absolutely fucking nothing.

He checked his watch again.

The digital display blinked back at him, mocking him.

5:18 P.M.

Was this for real?

It'd only been seven minutes since he'd last checked. He made a frustrated sound and paced the room for what was likely the thousandth time. He was a man of action, and after being cooped up here for the whole day, he felt like a caged animal, restless energy all coiled inside him, making him ready to pounce the second the door opened.

He didn't know what was taking them so long. If anything, Jace or Isabelle should've noticed his absence by now, and Magnus should've done a tracking spell to find him. Even if he'd relied only on Jace's devil-may-care attitude, it shouldn't have taken the entire day.

He stopped pacing as an unwanted thought popped into his head. Could something have happened to them too? Were they in trouble, just like him?

Seeds of worry and anxiety began to take root in the pit of his stomach. If anything had happened to his siblings, or Magnus ...

His jaw clenched as he had to consciously temper down his anger. Damn it all, he hated being this powerless and helpless, especially when those he loved could be in danger. It went against every instinct he had.

Just then, something made him perk up. Voices. Voices and laughter that sounded fairly close. Alec looked up at the small window, wishing he could see outside.

"Hey!" he yelled. He wasn't sure how thick or soundproofed the walls were, but it was worth a try. He moved as far away from the window as possible, and attempted to get a better vantage point. Having only seen blue sky the whole time, it was impossible to tell where he'd been locked up.

The voices moved closer, became louder.

He yelled again, hoping the casual passersby would hear.

Yet, nothing broke the rhythm of the oblivious chatter on the other side, and they started to move away. Alec looked around, frantically searching for something to catch their attention. For lack of anything better to use, he grabbed a can of peaches from his stockpile - funny, he liked peaches - and threw it up at the window. It hit the glass with a dull 'thunk', but did no damage as it fell heavily to the floor.

By now, those voices had faded, and disappointment settled in on Alec like a dead weight.

He cursed, loudly and profusely.

Silence blanketed the room once more, and he was beginning to despise it with a passion. He was introverted by nature, but this solitude was enough to slowly drive a person insane. He reminded himself to never complain about his family or friends interrupting on his personal time again.

Feeling like he'd lost the battle for the day, he sat back down in defeat, back to mulling over his own thoughts, and back to simply waiting.

(***)

"Izzy, you head in from the east along Fifth Avenue. Jace, Clary, run down and approach from the south. No way of escape, got it?"

Alec's orders were issued in a tone that did not leave room for debate. And although Jace had never really taken Alec too seriously at times - he preferred to think that the drum he followed had a slightly different beat - he almost felt compelled to follow his parabatai's commands tonight right down to the letter for some reason.

"What about -?" Alec had already turned around and started to walk away when the question left Jace's mouth.

"… You?" he finished dejectedly.

A hand pressed gently on his upper arm, and he looked down at Clary. Something inside him softened at her touch, but he tried not to let it show too much. He thought he did a good job of it. They were on a mission after all.

"What's up with Alec?" she asked, the distant Manhattan lights reflecting off her inquiring green eyes. "He seems more 'army drill sergeant' than usual."

Jace watched Alec's disappearing form as the other Shadowhunter made his way into the dimly lit pedestrian paths of the park. "I'm not sure. He's been off all day. It's like he missed out on his beauty sleep or something."

A corner of Clary's mouth lifted up into a contemplative angle, and he fought a sudden urge to kiss her. "I can talk to him after all this, if you guys think it'll help," she said, her gaze directed in the same direction as his.

"Thanks, Clary," Isabelle chimed in as she stepped toward them, and gave her friend a warm smile. "Don't worry about it. I can have a sibling to sibling talk with him tonight." Then, her posture straightened, and her fingers moved to ready her whip. "Now, let's get going, or we won't hear the end of how we left Alec to do this whole mission solo."

Clary nodded in agreement before she and Isabelle started off along their respective paths. Jace followed closely behind his girlfriend, easily keeping up with her moderate pace. Clary may have only started living their lifestyle for just a short while, but she had picked things up pretty quickly, and he had taken pride in that fact. He felt as if her accomplishments were his accomplishments, and although he couldn't explain it, he was actually comfortable with the novel feeling. And the fact that she was cute and had a great ass didn't hurt matters much either, he thought slyly.

"Take the left path," he whispered as he dodged several stray branches while sliding over into one of the smaller trails. "We'll head south and cut back up to the North Wood. All the mundane bodies were found in that general area, so we'll have to keep our eyes and ears open."

"Yes, Dad," he heard Clary say mockingly. "And I even put on my good runes today. Aren't you proud?"

He couldn't stop a smile from forming at her snide comment. "Would've been prouder if you'd asked _me_ to put on your runes today," he threw back suggestively.

Clary didn't respond to him on that one, but he could imagine the blush that must've colored her cheeks at the comment. It was one of the many things that attracted him to her, the multi-faceted parts of her personality: bold yet shy, strong yet vulnerable. And he was surprised each day by discovering something new about her.

They followed the walking path a little further, unseen and unheard by the few humans milling about, thanks to some runic assistance. The stretches of shadows outnumbered the splotches of lamplight this far into the park, and to the uninitiated, the leaves and branches of the overhanging trees seemed more threatening than the real monsters themselves. It was a good thing they weren't part of the uninitiated, Jace mused as he avoided an untrimmed branch.

When the trail split, Jace took the lead and brought them down the one he knew would take them toward Alec and Izzy. But they had just changed direction when a series of ear-piercing squeals reached them, the pitch and volume too extreme to be of the natural mundane world. Both he and Clary stopped, and looked at each other for a moment. Adrenalin shot through his body, singing through his veins and readying him for the upcoming fight. His heart began to beat a steady battle rhythm, and his whole being itched for some action.

An almost imperceptible nod from him, and they were off, tracking the source of the sounds with their enhanced senses as their blades were primed without conscious thought. He rounded a bend, and instinctively put a hand out to stop Clary from going any farther.

And just in time too.

Something big flew across their path - or rather, was thrown across their path - just inches in front of them. Jace could smell the acrid scent of demon blood as it whizzed by, and he stared, slightly shocked as the creature landed heavily amongst a bed of broken twigs and cracking leaves, body convulsing in death throes, likely brought on by the several arrows protruding from its chest.

"Raum," Jace stated plainly just at the thing stopped moving. His blade was up defensively as he turned toward where it'd come from. He could hear the grunts of exertion, the thuds of connecting blows, and the rending of flesh beyond the obscuring branches. There was a full-fledged battle going on, and it was a suspicion that was confirmed when he and Clary stepped into the clearing. What he hadn't expected, however, was Alec singlehandedly taking on two of the demons by himself, and holding his own, at that. The way Clary froze and stared told Jace she was just as surprised as he was at the sight.

His parabatai moved with a fluidity and efficiency of motion that he'd never seen before. With his bow in one hand deflecting attacks, his seraph blade swung in wide, deadly arcs in the other. Even Jace had trouble tracking the feints and counters. One of the demons hissed in pain as an attack struck true, and the sound was enough to remind Jace of his job. He quickly inserted himself into the fray, drawing one of the creatures toward him so that Alec could finish off the one he'd injured. A tentacle lashed out, and he dove to evade it, tucking and rolling to get back on his feet. He reversed the grip on his blade, and sliced upward, easily severing the tentacle that had come at him.

He grinned. He loved this. He loved the thrill of this. He loved the rush of battle, this heightened state of awareness where the air around him practically buzzed with electricity. The demon attacked again, unfazed by the loss of its appendage, and Jace reflexively avoided it. He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, and ducked under the remaining tentacles. He charged forward, and aimed for the thing's heart. His blade found its mark, slipping smoothly into the demon's flesh without much effort on his part, and with a cry of pain and anger, the creature fell clumsily to the ground.

Pulling his weapon out of the soon-to-be corpse, Jace looked over at Alec, who happened to be doing the same thing with his demon. He'd always known his parabatai was a good fighter, but the archer's style usually had a bit more finesse, and well, were slightly more long-range in terms of tactics. Pure physicality and strength were more his own specialty. But what he'd seen earlier threw his whole understanding off-kilter. It was a bit … trippy, actually. When had Alec gotten so much better at close quarter combat than him? No, wait, not better than him, Jace corrected his train of thought with a bit of indignation. Just ... better.

"You okay?" he asked as he made his way over to the archer.

Alec didn't look at him. He simply nodded his head curtly, and watched the other corner of the clearing steadily. Then, without warning, he bolted in that direction, bow drawn and arrow nocked. Before Jace had a chance to open his mouth to say anything, Alec loosed three arrows in rapid succession into a copse of trees.

His parabatai had gone crazy, Jace concluded. That was it, bat shit crazy. But before he could voice it to Clary, who'd come up beside him, one more demon fell out of those bushes, the three arrows Alec had shot embedded firmly in its chest.

"How-?" Clary stared at Alec too. "D-did Alec just take down three demons on his own?"

There was a mix of astonishment and admiration in her tone, sentiments echoed in Jace's own head.

"Yeah, looks like he did." His attention didn't leave his parabatai as the other Shadowhunter moved to ensure the last demon was truly dead. "Rushed straight into the fight without waiting for support or back-up," Jace said before letting out an amused snort. "And they say I'm the reckless one ..."


	4. Chapter 3: Games

Author's Notes:

Hello!

Thanks for continuing to follow along with this story. And of course, thank you for the reviews/faves/follows. It is definitely appreciated, and makes for warm, fuzzy feelings!

Shall we?

Happy reading!

Cheers,  
K.

(***)

 _Retrograde  
Chapter 3: Games_

(***)

There was nothing like a good party to make everything seem right with the world. Magnus took a sip of the scotch he'd just picked up, and surveyed his little kingdom with a critical eye. Pounding music, flashing lights, dancing bodies ... Pandemonium was a miasma of mundanes and Downworlders, sex and alcohol, vice and decadence. And Magnus – well, he was in his element. He absolutely thrived in this setting, fitting in without even trying.

No, not just fitting in, he thought. He outshone them all. What, with his well-coiffed, gold tinged hair, kohl-lined eyes, slick leather pants, and form-fitting royal blue shirt, how could he not outshine them? And this was his party, after all.

Mere acquaintances, clients – both former and current, and close friends were all here this evening. And they were all here for him. He was actually quite touched by that fact. Had it really been twenty years since he'd set up shop here in Brooklyn? It was amazing how time just flew by when one wasn't paying attention. Now, if only Alec were here to share everything with.

He hadn't forgotten about how they'd left things that morning, and as much as he'd smiled and graciously accepted the obligatory congratulations of all those in attendance tonight, the uncharacteristic actions of his boyfriend still sat in the forefront of his mind. A part of him hoped that a day of training and Shadowhunter work at the Institute would've exorcised whatever problems had been plaguing Alec, but the other part ... well, the other part wanted Alec to come to him, to confide in him and take advantage of the trust and intimacy they had so painstakingly developed for each other.

"Nice turnout you have here," came a familiar voice behind him. "Didn't think you had that many friends."

"I don't. I just paid them all to be here." Magnus didn't miss a beat as he glanced over at the newcomer.

Jace Wayland leaned casually back against the bar, all confidence and cocksure attitude in his bearing as he took in the club scene. Most of the time, Magnus considered the blond just another stereotypical Shadowhunter he had to work with in the course of his duties, but given the relationship they both shared with Alec, he had learned to tolerate the man a little more than the others.

"So," he said with a sigh. "Am I to assume then, now that you're here, your Shadowhunter duties are done for the night?"

A glass was placed on the bar beside Jace with a dull 'clunk', and the blond took a moment to claim it and sample the liquor. "If that's your secret warlock code-speak for asking if Alec's here, then yes, he is. I came with him and Isabelle."

Magnus tipped his drink at the other man in thanks, and was just about to start his search for Alec when the blond Shadowhunter stopped him.

"Hey, did something happen between the two of you? Because if you've hurt him..."

The cold look Magnus shot Jace's way was enough to cut the rest of that sentence off. The warlock hated the insinuation. "Don't even finish that thought, Shadowhunter," he said stonily. To think he'd ever hurt Alec. He'd rather carve out his own heart before considering such a thing. "Even knowing it came from your overdeveloped sense of loyalty, I find the implication insulting."

Jace looked away, unapologetic. "Then why is he acting so weird?"

Since he could barely hear the quiet words above the heavy bass of the music, Magnus wasn't sure if the question was directed at him or not, but his curiosity was piqued. If both he and the arrogant blond noticed Alec's odd behavior, then there was a mystery indeed.

"You've noticed it too, haven't you?" Jace asked, attention now focused solely on him. "And you don't know what's going on with him either, do you?"

Magnus had assumed that after centuries of practice, he'd mastered the art of hiding his thoughts behind a well-crafted, glittery mask. Either he was losing his touch, or the blond was more perceptive than he'd like to let on. Magnus' ego felt a bit bruised at having the young upstart read him so easily.

Putting his pride aside, he shifted back to the bar beside the Shadowhunter. The priority now was to figure out what was wrong with Alec. "Have you encountered anything out of the ordinary lately? Shapeshifter? Magically-inclined Downworlders?"

"None." There was no hesitation in the response. "Unless you count some Shadowhunter-hate from a group of vampires last week, but we broke that up pretty quick. And your usual garden variety demons, of course."

That wasn't very helpful at all. Magnus took another sip of his drink, eyes scanning over the rim of his glass at the mass of undulating bodies on the dance floor. "And your so-called parabatai bond? Anything?" he asked casually after he savored the familiar earthy notes on his tongue.

Jace shrugged, as if the question was of no consequence. "Same old, same old. He's not in pain or mortal danger, so I don't feel anything out of the ordinary."

"Then what do I keep you around for?" Magnus muttered under his breath.

"My good looks."

A corner of Magnus' lips quirked up at the retort. He hadn't expected the other man to hear his nonsensical question over the pounding music, but obviously, those enhanced Shadowhunter senses were still at work. He may not outright like the man, but sometimes, maybe once in a blue moon or so, the blond could be amusing.

"So ..."

Magnus glanced over at his companion when the man's voice trailed off. Jace's attention was focused on the far side of the club all of a sudden. His gaze was steady, but the crease on the younger man's forehead betrayed the confusion he was trying to hide.

Magnus looked over in the same direction, but couldn't find what amazing thing had caused the infamous Jace Wayland to be at a loss for words. Those bloody Shadowhunter senses! "What?"

"So, you sure you and Alec are alright?"

"Last I checked, yes." For some reason, Magnus had an almost knee-jerk reaction of not sharing any of the relationship concerns he'd had. He didn't mind broadcasting the fact that he was in a relationship with Alec - in fact, he loved bragging about it - but when it came to the private details of it, he preferred to keep everything, well, private. And that included keeping it from his boyfriend's brother.

"Then I'm guessing the reason he's getting so cozy with those fae over there is more for professional curiosity," Jace noted. His eyes were still fixed on the other side of the floor, but Magnus could see a slight smirk forming on the blond's face. "Either that, or my brother's developed a glitter fetish."

Magnus casually moved a step closer toward the Shadowhunter. He didn't want to appear too eager, or bothered by what his blond companion had said - he had a certain facade to maintain - but he couldn't help but crane his neck a bit to search out Alec. It took a minute or two, but Magnus finally caught sight of the same thing Jace had: there was Alec, obscured by a mass of dancers, on the other side of the floor, head bent low and talking with a couple of waif-like fae. At first, it seemed innocent enough, but then, one of those creatures ran a hand up along Alec's arm, and much to Magnus's surprise, his boyfriend leaned in toward the bold one, and actually smiled.

Smiled! Alec rarely smiled, and when he did, Magnus liked to think that most of those shy ones were reserved for him. A burst of red-hot anger and jealousy flared in the pit of his stomach, and it took most of his self-control to not walk over there, and blast those fae into a pile of fairy dust. What kind of game was Alec playing here?

"Woah, calm down there, Romeo."

Magnus glared at Jace. "What are you talking about? I am calm."

The blond angled his head slightly, and looked pointedly at the drink in Magnus' hand. The liquid had started bubbling a light blue color, and the warlock belatedly realized that his little bout of jealousy had caused some of his magic to manifest.

Shit. Only Alec could do this to him. Quickly reining in his powers, he placed the glass down behind him on the bar.

"You going to interrupt, and give them a piece of your warlock mind?" Jace asked encouragingly. The man sounded a little too excited at the idea.

"That, dear boy, would just be a tad unseemly." Magnus' eyes narrowed as he watched the other fae sidle up closer to his boyfriend. "No, I can play this game too. Alec's punishment will just be saved for later, when we're alone."

Jace, much to Magnus' satisfaction, had the decency to shudder at the loaded comment.

(***)

If anyone had told Isabelle a year ago that she'd find her brother voluntarily socializing in a club, she would've told them to get their heads checked. Tonight, however, she felt like she was the one who needed her head checked. And her eyes too, for that matter.

She waited patiently for Alec to finish chatting with the unknown fae before approaching him. He had an unreadable expression on his face as he watched them leave, and she wondered what had driven him to even talk with the Downwolders in the first place. For all intents and purposes, it looked like Alec had actually been flirting - was she really using 'Alec' and 'flirting' in the same sentence? - with them. And that was a very un-Alec thing to do. But this seemed to be the theme of the day today, apparently.

"Hey, big brother," she said cheerily as she came up beside him. "Can we talk?"

Alec stared at her as if the concept of having a talk with her was a foreign thing, but the look disappeared so quickly that Isabelle was sure she'd imagined it.

"Sure, Izzy. What about?"

"Well, I guess we can start with who those fae were. You guys seemed pretty cozy. Is everything okay between you and Magnus?"

Alec shrugged dismissively. "I just needed some information from then for another case I was looking into. Just playing along."

Normally, Isabelle had great respect for her brother, and would support him in everything he did. But she couldn't stop the skepticism from tainting her thoughts this time. "What case?" She was prying, and well she knew it.

"An old one. It was assigned to me a long time ago, but wasn't urgent, so I didn't have time to look into anything until now. You don't need to worry about it."

The explanation sounded flimsy, but Isabelle decided to give her brother the benefit of the doubt, and let it slide. For now, anyways. "So, nothing's wrong between you and Magnus? Is something else going on? You just seem really off today.

Something in Alec's eyes softened, and Isabelle was relieved to see the familiar look.

"I've just got a lot on my mind," he said in a reassuring tone. "I didn't realize I was worrying you. I'm sorry."

Although Isabelle wasn't completely convinced, the apology was enough to put her somewhat at ease. As strong as her brother was in many aspects of his life, there were times when he was so clueless and so vulnerable. And those were the times she couldn't stop her protective instincts from taking over.

She stepped up to him and gave him a hug. He stood stiffly in the beginning, but quickly relaxed into her embrace, and returned it. "That's okay, Alec. Just know that we're always here if you need us."

She pulled away a little reluctantly, but hopeful that their little chat helped. Yet, as she was about to go enjoy the party, Alec placed a stilling hand on her arm.

"Izzy."

She paused, and looked up at her brother expectantly. But he simply stared at her, mouth slightly open, as if he were trying to find the right words. Isabelle began to feel a little uncomfortable at the scrutiny. "What? Is there something on my face? Spinach in my teeth?" she asked lightly.

"No, no, nothing like that. I-I just wanted to know, are you happy?"

Okay, what small comfort she'd drawn from Alec's earlier words disappeared with that question. Her concern returned. "Happy? Why are you asking me that?"

"Older brother's prerogative, I guess."

Isabelle thought it was a pretty random time to pull the older brother card, but she played along. "Well, if you must know, I've got two very annoying brothers to watch over, but overall, I can't say I'm not happy."

Alec's lips thinned into a tight smile. "Good."

"Alec-"

"I should probably go find Magnus," her brother cut her off and pre-empted anymore questions she had.

"Uhh, yeah, of course," she said, surprised at the cavalier end to their conversation.

And as much as she wanted to get to the bottom of her brother's odd behavior, he gave her arm a departing squeeze, and left her feeling more puzzled than before their talk.

(***)

They were in trouble. They had to be. That was why he was still here. It was the only theory Alec wanted to entertain. Because, otherwise, they had simply not noticed his absence or were doing fine without him, and he wasn't sure his self-confidence could take that kind of blow.

And so, he was fairly certain that his siblings and Magnus must be in some sort of trouble. The thought of any of them in distress caused his anger to build, and it was that anger that kept him going right now.

He looked up at the lone window. There was a half-moon tonight, its pale glowing shape the only glimpse he had of the outside world. He needed to be out there, needed to help them, and that window was his best bet to get him there.

An unsettling growl interrupted his train of thought, and he cursed the hunger that had been hounding him the last few hours. He stared down at the cans of food, wanting to open one of them, but resisting on principle. Until now, he'd refused to touch it. He'd refused because by opening one, and eating something, he would be giving into his situation. It would mean he'd accepted his captivity, and he was nothing if not stubborn. But now, a sense of purpose overtook him. His siblings had pointed out on occasion that his resolve was pretty firm – perhaps too firm – at times, and he hoped they were right.

He was damn well going to escape this place, and he would do it himself if he had to.

Determination fueling his actions, he moved over to the stash of food, picked up a can, and yanked on the pull tab. Sitting down, his eyes never left the window as he started to eat.

(***)

Magnus smiled wickedly as he threw Alec against the wall of the loft with enough force to shake the hanging paintings. Physically, he would not have been in a position to do such a thing, but with a little bit of magical assistance, the Shadowhunter was powerless to react.

"Magnus, wha—" Alec looked at him, wide-eyed and startled, his voice cut off with a quick flick of the warlock's fingers.

"I don't know what game you're playing, Alexander," Magnus said gruffly as he pushed up against his boyfriend, and rubbed his partial erection against the other man's inner thigh. "But if your goal was to make me jealous tonight at the club, it worked."

He interlaced his fingers with the Shadowhunters, pulled his companion's hands up, and pinned them against the wall above their heads with a small spell. Thus immobilized, Magnus moved in and claimed a kiss, rough, harsh, and possessive. He hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Alec all night, and now that they'd returned home, this moment, this inevitable confrontation, was a culmination of a night of pent-up jealousy. After seeing Alec flirting – and smiling – at another, Magnus had wanted to assert this control, stake his claim as it were, and heaven help any creature – Downworlder or otherwise – who dared get in his way now.

Alec struggled against his invisible bonds, but while his body resisted, his mouth was giving a different message. Magnus could taste the hunger and the need in every thrust, every nip, every bite, and he took it all in without shame. He didn't realize how rough he was being until he tasted the sharp metallic tang of blood on his tongue. He pulled away, a wave of triumph flooding through him as he took in the mark he'd left on Alec's lower lip.

Then, something changed. Alec's expression became distant, and the heat that had shone so brightly in those beautiful eyes hardened into cold, unrelenting steel. It was the strangest transformation Magnus had ever witnessed in his lover.

"I wasn't playing any game, Magnus. Let go," the younger man ground out through clenched teeth. To make his point, he tried to pull away from the wall, muscles straining and veins bulging, only to be pulled back by the magic holding his arms in place. On any normal day, Magnus would've admired the show of physicality, but this did not feel like a normal day. He took a step back, at a loss. He enjoyed a bit of kink as much as the next warlock, but never with an unwilling partner.

"Magnus."

At Alec's prompting, Magnus snapped his fingers and released his boyfriend. "What's going on, Alexander?"

The Shadowhunter straightened himself out, and Magnus fought down a pang of longing as the other man wiped his swollen lip with the back of his hand. "Was this all because I spoke to those fae tonight?"

"Don't answer a question with a question, darling." Now, Magnus was feeling a spark of anger at the evasiveness, something he would never have expected to experience with Alec.

"Was this all because of what I did tonight?" the younger man repeated. He met Magnus' gaze head on, unflinching and unashamed. "Does it make you mad? Hate me even?"

Although he didn't let his thoughts show, Magnus wondered who this person was in front of him. He'd never seen his Alexander like this before. "Are you drunk?" he asked, trying to come up with the most logical explanation he could. "Because if you are, we can't have this conversation right now, or else we may say things we'll regret later."

"I've never been more sober."

"Then why? What's gotten into you?" Some of that anger had leaked into his voice, and even though he didn't like where this was going, he couldn't stop it.

"Nothing's gotten into me, Magnus. I don't know how many times I've had to say that. I'm just seeing things clearly for the first time. An immortal warlock, and a very mortal Shadowhunter... for someone as old as you, you have to see that there's something fundamentally wrong with that. I'm just a tiny blip on your endless list of conquests. Sure, we'll have some fun – eat, drink, laugh, fuck – but in the end, it'll all reset, and you'll be alone again, as you were. There is no happily-ever-after here, so what's the point?"

"Alec, we've been through this. If this is about your insecurities, so help me –"

"I think we need a break."

Magnus stopped. In fact, it seemed like the whole world stopped. Somewhere in the back of his brain, a tiny voice tried to convince him that this wasn't real, that something was wrong with Alec, and he wasn't himself. But the very real pain of the moment, of those words, drowned it all out. Touch, taste, sound, and smell all disappeared, leaving only Alec ... Alec, and his fucking cold expression. The vacuum in which he suddenly existed became suffocating, choking him until his knees threatened to buckle. But no, he refused to give Alec the satisfaction of seeing the effect his statement had. He still had his pride, after all. The complete silence slowly gave way to a ringing in his ears, and that high-pitched squeal then eventually gave way to the heavy thumping of his heart. Funny, he'd thought the thing had been broken beyond repair there for a second.

"If that's what you want, I'm not going to stop you." Was that his voice? How had it remained so steady when it felt like everything he'd ever wanted was collapsing in around him? And why hadn't he learned, especially after so many centuries? Why hadn't he learned that opening himself up like this always resulted in a piece of himself being destroyed? Except this time, that piece of him being destroyed... it was so big. He wasn't sure if there would be enough of him left over to salvage.

Alec squared his shoulders, and let out what sounded like a relieved breath. "Thank you," he said in a low tone. Then, as if this were any other day, and not one where their entire universe had just imploded, he walked away, back straight and strides sure. He walked away, out of the loft, and to Magnus' growing horror, out of what felt like his life.


	5. Chapter 4: Traitor

Author's Note:

Hello!

My apologies for the delay in posting this, but thanks for continuing to follow along! Real life notwithstanding, hoping to finish this little story up in one more chapter shortly, so please enjoy! :)

Cheers,  
K.

P.S. maiken6, thanks for being such a sweetheart, and asking so politely for more!

(***)

 _Retrograde  
Chapter 4: Traitor_

(***)

[Watch Alec. Something's wrong.]

Jace stopped in the middle of the corridor, and stared at the text on his phone for a moment. He needed time to process it, and to decide how to react. This was new. He could count on one hand – or more specifically, on one finger – the number of times Magnus had texted him. The warlock usually preferred to deal with Alec, and he was more than okay with that.

But what got him was the content of the message. He never pried much into Magnus' and his brother's affairs, and they never volunteered anything, so for the warlock to actually come to him for help … well, it was different. After about a minute pause, he finally texted back.

[Ok]

The two of them had never really gotten to the bottom of Alec's strange behavior last night, but Jace had secretly hoped his brother would resolve his issues behind closed doors with his boyfriend. Now, it seemed like the mystery had fallen to him. Not that he minded. He could be pretty focused and serious when he needed to be. It was just that those occasions where he needed to be rarely ever came up.

Continuing on, he made his way to the training room. Alec was a creature of habit, and could usually be found there this time of day. Yet, to his surprise, the large space was empty. He was pretty sure his parabatai was at the Institute though. Fortunately – or unfortunately – Alec only travelled between here and Magnus', and he obviously wasn't at the latter, which only meant Jace had to do a little extra legwork.

Going from room to room, he eventually found Alec in one of the control rooms, tapping away at a workstation.

"Hey." Jace couldn't see what his brother was looking at, but it was engrossing enough for his voice to actually startle the other Shawdowhunter.

Alec recovered quickly. A few keystrokes, and Alec had his station closed down. "Hey, yourself," the archer said as he turned around.

"What's going on?" Jace asked casually. To the normal observer, Alec looked as he did every other day, but this was his parabatai, and now that he'd carefully observed the man the last couple of days, he knew something was definitely off.

"Nothing. Just doing some research." Alec stood up, indirectly indicating he was done with the subject.

But Jace could be stubborn too. "Oh, really? About what? Need help?"

"No, I'm good. Just looking up an old mission."

A lie. Jace could tell it was a lie. Yet, before he had a chance to call his brother on it, Alec started to walk away. Without thought, he placed a stilling hand on the archer's shoulder. He needed to get to the bottom of this, but he wasn't sure how. Stealing a bit more time with Alec was a start, he supposed.

"Magnus texted," he said, for lack of something else to say. "He's worried about you."

Jace felt his brother's muscles tense beneath his fingers before Alec flashed him an angry look. "Well, Magnus needs to stay out of my business. We're on a break."

That was unexpected. "W-What?"

"You heard me."

"But why?"

Alec shrugged off Jace's hand. "It was just time, that's all."

Jace stared at his brother, dumbfounded. Given their line of work, and of the many things that constantly changed in their lives, he would've thought that Alec and Magnus would be one of the few things that would remain intact through it all.

"We should get training." Alec broke his stupor with the command.

Still slightly distracted, Jace nodded. "Yeah, sure. I'll meet you there in a few minutes. I need to pick up some gear first."

Alec seemed to accept the delay because he left without issuing any more orders. Jace watched him go with a critical eye, as if trying to see if any of his movements or mannerisms gave away anything about what was wrong with him.

Nothing.

When he was certain his brother had cleared the room, he turned toward the recently vacated computer station. He wasn't a genius on the thing by any means, but he liked to think himself competent enough to bring up a search history. It took a few tries, but eventually, he had a rough idea of what his brother had been browsing before he'd interrupted. And it still didn't leave him any the wiser.

Why would Alec be looking at profiles of Downworlders? Jace perused through the most recent profiles: two vampires, a Seelie, and a werewolf. He couldn't see any connection between any of them, nor could he find any misbehavior on their part that would require Shadowhunter intervention. They all looked like regular citizens – insofar as Downworlders could be regular citizens.

Not coming up with any answers, Jace took note of the names, and filed them away in his brain for later. It seemed like a dead end now, but if he maybe got the others involved, he was sure they could solve it together. So deciding, he shut down the workstation, and headed for the training room.

(***)

Three days.

Magnus downed the last of his drink, and placed his glass back on the cart, expression grim.

Three days. That was how long it had taken him to get his act together after Alec had walked out. At first, his initial instinct was to let it all go. He was Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, and he would not be brought down by a mere Shadowhunter with a shy smile and endearing eyes. The boy was someone else's problem now, he'd thought, and he'd texted Jace as much.

But pride could be such a cruel, sadistic creature. It had deceived him and deluded him into thinking that he was above all this, that someone as old and as jaded as him could brush off this rejection like an annoying piece of lint, when in the end, debilitating loneliness and overwhelming longing were his only companions. It took all this time for his rational brain to beat back the shock, and remind him that Alec was more than some conquest on his long road of immortality. No, Alec was _it_. And he had better damn well fight for him.

Just as he'd resolved to clean himself up – moping around certainly did nothing for his appearance – his phone buzzed. Grumbling at the inopportune timing, he pulled the thing out of his pocket, and hoped it wasn't a client. When he read the name on the text message he'd received, he was honestly surprised.

Jace.

[Have you seen Alec?]

His brow furrowed a bit in confusion. He'd assumed Alec had been staying at the Institute, and had likely explained the reason to his siblings. Why would they think he'd seen him?

"Stupid Shadowhunter logic, as usual," he muttered to himself as he messaged back.

[Haven't seen him in 3 days.]

He waited a few minutes, and when he didn't get a response, he guessed the not-so-bright blond Shadowhunter had gone off to pursue some other avenue. Tucking his phone away, he resumed his original course to his room. It was time to make himself presentable again, and then, plan a course of action to figure out what was wrong with his cute, but misguided, boyfriend.

(***)

"Hey, Jace, have you seen Alec?"

Jace would've laughed at the redundancy of Isabelle's question had the actual subject not been serious. He glanced back down at Magnus' text before responding. "Nope. And neither has Magnus. Alec is MIA."

A crease formed on Izzy's forehead as confusion and exasperation fought for dominance in her expression. "Well, that doesn't help. I called his phone, but got sent straight to voicemail."

Normally, Jace wouldn't have been worried about his parabatai. The man was too responsible to get into any real trouble, but given his strange behavior the last little while, and his avoidance of Magnus, his errant imagination seemed to be coming up with all sorts of sticky scenarios their brother could be in. Still, he didn't want to worry Izzy, and so, kept his reservations to himself.

"Yeah, I haven't seen him either. Why? What's up?"

Isabelle handed him the sheet of paper she'd been holding. "We've got another mission."

Jace perked up at the prospect. He rather liked missions.

"There've been three unexplained Downworlder deaths in the last few days: two vampires, and a Seelie. Tensions are rising between the groups because no one's been able to figure out who did it."

Isabelle's words sparked an ominous chord in Jace. Something in his gut knew what he would see on the sheet of paper if he looked down, but a huge part of him was in denial about it. Still, like some random passerby at a car accident, he couldn't help but peek, and so, with a growing sense of dread, his eyes eventually wandered over the names on the file.

Ivan Terasenko - Vampire.

Natalia Federova – Vampire.

Kellan Tremayne – Seelie.

Shit. He knew those names. He'd seen them just a few days ago.

He quickly passed the paper back to Izzy. "You're right," he said in a rush. "We should probably find Alec. Why don't you keep asking around here, and I'll go check his usual hangouts?"

Isabelle opened her mouth to say something, but Jace walked away and pretended not to notice. He didn't need or want to any questions right now, even if it was from his sister. What he had to do was find Alec, first and foremost, which meant he would have to pay a visit to the warlock.

(***)

"We need to talk."

Magnus barely had time to register who his visitor was before Jace walked by him into the loft. "Well, hello to you too," he said airily as he closed the door. He straightened the lapel of his velvet blazer before following the blond Shadowhunter into his living room. At least he'd had enough time to make himself presentable before the man had barged in. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Jace leaned against the back of the sofa, and crossed his arms. Although his body language appeared casual and nonchalant, the intensity of his eyes screamed otherwise. "Alec's in trouble."

Instantly, Magnus was on alert. "What? Where is he? Is he hurt?"

"No, nothing like that. Remember how we were saying that he's been acting weird lately?" At Magnus' nod, Jace continued. "I found him going through some Downworlder files the other day. I asked him about it, and he basically brushed it off. But today, Izzy came by with a report of multiple Downworlder murders. I looked at the victims' names, Magnus. They were the same ones that Alec had been looking at earlier. You can't tell me that's a coincidence."

Magnus wasn't sure how to take the information. He'd just resolved to find Alec and talk some sense into him, but he couldn't very well do that if the Shadowhunter was tried for murder. "Does anyone else know?" he ended up asking.

Jace shook his head. "No, not even Izzy. I don't want to see any allegations thrown at him until we figure out what's going on. I have a hard time believing Alec would break the Accords like this. Because, c'mon, this is Alec we're talking about. He's not a traitor."

Magnus made a sound of agreement. He walked his way over to the drink cart, and poured himself a drink. He lifted up the decanter, and offered to pour one for his visitor, but Jace declined with a dismissive wave. The blond did have a point, Magnus conceded. If there was one thing his boyfriend valued above all else – besides Magnus himself, he hoped – it was honor. And there was no way Alec would jeopardize the fragile peace of their world with what Jace had implied.

"So we're agreed that either that's not Alec, or he might be under the control of someone or something?" Magnus looked steadily at Jace, secretly wanting him to confirm the hypothesis because he wasn't sure he could stomach the real Alec saying those things he'd said days ago.

The Shadowhunter nodded. "Which means we need to find him, and stop him."

"Stop him? From doing what?"

Jace pushed himself off the sofa, and dug out a piece of folded paper from one of his many pockets. "There was one more name our fake Alec was looking at: a werewolf by the name of Jack Newfield. If he's following a pattern, then we've got to stop him before we add another statistic to the list of dead Downworlders."

Magnus took the sheet, and glanced over the werewolf's profile, the Institute stationary feeling heavy and solid against his fingers. "He doesn't live too far away from here," he observed, his demeanor all business. He didn't like the idea of hunting down his boyfriend like a common criminal, but if this wasn't really Alec, then the imposter needed to be stopped before another Downworlder was murdered, and Alec's reputation was irrevocably tarnished. "If this man is a fake, I don't have anything that belongs to him, which means I can't do a proper tracking spell on him. We'll have to do it the old fashioned way, and start tracking from the werewolf's apartment."

Jace's mouth thinned into a contemplative line. "If this guy's a fake, then where is the real Alec?"

Magnus didn't want to think about that right now. He didn't want to think about how stupid or irresponsible he'd been in letting this imposter insert himself into their lives so easily. That was a boatload of emotions he'd have to save for another day. He just had to take solace in that Jace's rune hadn't acted up, and that the real Alec – _his_ Alec – was unharmed. "I don't know, but we'll find him after we deal with this."

He placed the profile sheet down on the cart with his half-finished drink, and gestured for Jace to start moving. "Now, if what you're saying is true, we should probably hurry, or we'll have a dead werewolf on our hands."

The blond Shadowhunter already had his stele out as he headed toward the door. Magnus followed without a word, silently praying to whatever deity was listening that wherever his Alec was, he was safe.

(***)

Jace heard their targets before he saw them. His enhanced hearing picked up the distinct guttural growl of a werewolf blocks away, and he couldn't mistake the sounds of the ensuing fight that followed. Shit, he hoped they weren't too late.

"This way," he yelled back to Magnus as he swung left at the next street corner. He didn't have to look back to know the warlock was glaring at him with a mix of frustration and anger. Not that it was his fault, of course. He couldn't help that all his training and angelic blood had made him the perfect hunter, whereas Magnus … well, he was just Magnus. The man was having a hard time keeping up. "Down here, and about four blocks away."

"Look," Magnus huffed. "Four blocks may sound like a cake walk to you, Shadowhunter, but in these shoes, not so much."

Jace fought the urge to roll his eyes. "The sooner we catch the guy, the sooner was can find the real Alec."

That did the trick. Magnus mouth took on a determined slant, and the warlock continued on in the direction Jace had indicated.

Jace followed his companion without another word, his resolve just as strong in finding his parabatai. With his natural pace, he overtook Magnus in seconds, and quickly led the way toward the fight. They were in Crown Heights, heading south on Albany, and Jace knew that they were entering a less affluent part of the city. Trendy, retro storefronts gave way to old, brick tenements, and that unique sense of urban vivacity morphed into dark corners and deserted sidewalks. Perhaps that was what the imposter wanted: to enact a murder where no one – mundane or otherwise – could witness it. He had to give the fake Alec credit; he wasn't completely stupid.

Jace stopped briefly when he saw a blur of shadows enter a side alley. There was no mistaking what it was. He didn't know how far behind Magnus was, but he didn't have time to wait. Seraph blade out, he dashed toward the fight. Alec had forced the wolf into a dead end, and even though Jace reluctantly conceded the imposter's skill, cornered animals were unpredictable, and Jace didn't want to deal with the mess afterwards, regardless of the victor.

"Alec!" he shouted. "Or whatever your name is. Don't!"

The imposter paused for a second - his bow drawn, and arrow nocked - but he didn't shoot. "Stay out of this, Jace," the man said steadily, his gaze fixed on the wolf. The creature - Jack - growled angrily, hackles raised.

"I can't do that. You're ruining Alec's - the _real_ Alec's - reputation, and I can't let that happen. Besides, I need to know where my brother is, and you're my best lead."

"He's fine," the fake Alec ground out. Then, his drawing arm rose ever so slightly, and the tension in the bow increased almost imperceptibly.

Jace had seen Alec shoot enough times to know when an arrow was imminent, and so, without another thought, he charged. With his speed, he managed to stop the arrow at the precise second the imposter released the bow string. The interference was enough to cause the fake Alec to drop his bow with a curse, and draw his own blade.

They traded blows, attacking and countering, just as he and the real Alec had done countless times in training, only for this fight, there was urgency, a deadly purpose, to the movements. Jace found it odd, fighting someone who looked like and moved like his brother, and yet … someone who wasn't. He grunted with exertion as he dodged a particularly quick slash, and sidestepped to mount an attack of his own. Out of the corner of his eye, he registered the wolf slipping away. Good, he thought. That allowed him to focus on one less responsibility. Clenching his jaw, he re-doubled his efforts and managed to slip his blade passed the imposter's guard. His blow was a glancing one, a shallow slice just below his opponent's ribs, but it did manage to draw blood. Yet, his brief second of victory was cut short when he felt a slight burn on his side … right below his ribs.

What the -?

He was so caught off guard by the new twist that he failed to avoid the right hook that came at him, and he ended up taking the hit. His vision blurred briefly when the imposter's fist connected with the side of his face, but when everything came back into focus, he heard the fake Alec's shout of frustration. Looking around, he saw Magnus enter the alley, blue sparks dancing on his fingers and grim determination etched on his face.

"You fooled me the last time I did this, and I let you go, but not this time," the warlock said coolly as he approached.

Jace belatedly noticed that the imposter had been pushed several feet away from him, and pinned by invisible hands to the nearby building. It was Magnus' doing, no doubt. Too bad the guy hadn't shown up a few seconds earlier, he thought bemusedly as he opened and closed his jaw a few times to make sure it still worked.

"Took you long enough to get here," he quipped as he straightened.

Magnus didn't respond to the remark as he moved closer. The man's attention was focused on the Alec lookalike, and only on him. "Who are you? And where's the real Alec?"

There was menace in the warlock's voice, and it reminded Jace of how old and powerful a being Magnus truly was. He watched the imposter tense suddenly, and at almost the same precise moment, Jace felt a painful constriction in his chest, as if something was squeezing all the air out of his lungs.

Fuck.

Magnus was tightening the invisible hold he had on the imposter. He had to be.

"Magnus, stop," Jace gasped. His features contorted in pain, his hands at his chest trying to claw away the unseen vise.

And just as quickly as it had come, the pressure disappeared.

The warlock threw him a puzzled look before turning back to their prisoner. He continued to walk toward the fake Alec. "You'd better start talking, or -"

The arrow that whizzed by Magnus and embedded itself beside the imposter's head stopped the warlock short. All eyes turned to the alley's opening.

A lopsided grin formed on Jace's lips as he took in the familiar silhouette. "Either we've stepped into one of your fantasies, Magnus, or we've just confirmed our imposter theory."

Magnus turned to look at the newcomer as well, and Jace saw a noticeable relaxing of the warlock's posture. Gaze still fixated on the new arrival, and smiling a relieved smile, Magnus threw back, "Since they're not naked, I would bet on the latter."

Alec - the _real_ Alec, Jace assumed - strode into the alleyway, another arrow nocked and aimed at the imposter. "I don't know who that is, but that's not me."

"We figured that," Jace noted. He pretended not to see the subtle touch Magnus gave the real Alec as the archer neared. It was a brief gesture by the warlock, as if to assure himself that his lover was actually there and safe. The moment was intimate and private, and Jace had the decency to not intrude. Instead, he focused in on their prisoner, still bound to the side of the building by Magnus' magic. "Now, who are you really? Hard to lie now since the real Alec is here."

The imposter ignored him, those intense eyes - almost black in the dark alley - trained unwaveringly on Magnus' and Alec's silent reunion.

"Talk," Jace commanded. He moved to stand beside the man, and pressed his blade against his throat for good measure.

The imposter didn't even flinch, but he did finally speak. "I'll talk," he said, the muscles around his jaw tightening visibly in the shadows. "But only to Alec."

Jace pulled his blade away, and looked at his parabatai - the real one. A million questions ran through his head at the request, but he kept silent as he raised an inquiring eyebrow at his brother. Alec lowered his bow, and after giving Magnus a reassuring look, he nodded at Jace.

He didn't like this, but he wanted to trust Alec's judgement. With slow steps, he walked away. He kept his blade out, just in case. He heard Magnus' soft footsteps following, but only after a brief pause. The warlock was probably more reluctant than he was to leave Alec alone. The both of them rounded the corner, and emerged into the main street. They remained silent as if by unconscious agreement, and they each took up sentry posts a few feet away from the alley's entryway, ready to move at the slightest sign of trouble.

(***)

There were not many things for which Alec had been grateful for the last few days, but Fate apparently was a fickle mistress, and it seemed that she'd been saving up all her favors for him to dispense in one big go. It had begun with getting out of that forsaken prison of his. It had taken a couple of days, but he'd established that those voices he'd heard his first night there were a regular occurrence. And once he'd pinpointed the exact time they walked by, he'd managed to make enough of a ruckus by throwing his cans of food against the window that they finally noticed. After some frantic pantomiming, the group of strangers - nearby factory workers who were off shift at 5 o'clock every day, he'd learned - had managed to break the window, and get him out. He'd made a beeline for Magnus' loft at that point, a big conflicted ball of anger, relief, and elation.

But the loft had been empty when he'd returned. And that was when Fate had smiled again. He'd found the Institute file on Magnus' drink cart, so very out of place given he hadn't been home with any files in days. Driven to find his boyfriend, he'd taken a glance at the address on the sheet, and had assumed that something was up, especially given his kidnapping. He'd grabbed his spare bow and stele from the closet, and prayed he would find Magnus.

The final stroke of luck had come in the form of a retreating werewolf. He'd arrived at the address he's seen on the Institute's file, and had started tracking as best he could when a blur of fur had darted by him. He hadn't needed much else to find the alley in which he now found himself. Preventing Magnus from getting too close to whatever this was had been his first task; now, he wanted to know who - or what - had kidnapped and replaced him.

"We're alone, like you wanted," he said as he stared straight into the imposter's eyes, eyes that he'd seen countless times in the mirror. It was a bit surreal, facing a copy of himself like this, and yet, knowing nothing about the other man was genuine. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

The shadows of the surrounding buildings played erratically off the imposter's face. What light managed to stream in from the street and out from the surrounding windows revealed a stony expression. Still, to Alec's tired eyes, there were cracks in that veneer, streaks of unspeakable horrors and inexplicable pain, held only at bay by sheer willpower alone.

Trying to ignore his observation, Alec opened his mouth to repeat his question. "Who-"

"If you had to make a choice, Alexander Lightwood, right here, right now," the man said in a quiet, serious tone. "Would you choose to cut all ties with Magnus, leaving him to enjoy a long, eventful life, or would you choose to spend the next few years with him, knowing you'll live to see him die?"


	6. Chapter 5: Choices

Author's Notes:

Hello!

Well, this is it: last chapter! I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I don't write much fanfiction anymore, but who knows? Maybe if time permits, I might dabble in this fandom again.

Also, one last time: please accept my sincere thanks for reading, and the comments/faves. So very appreciated!

And with that, on with the story.

Happy reading!

Cheers,  
Kaye

(***)

 _Retrograde  
Chapter 5: Choices_

(***)

Magnus watched Jace straighten and tighten the hold he had on his seraph blade. As much as he dismissed the blond Shadowhunter on a personal level, he did trust the nephilim's instincts, and could only assume something was up in the alley. He readied his magic, and the power danced with anticipation on his fingertips. Alec - the real Alec - was in there with that imposter, and while he was confident his magic still held their prisoner in place, he had seen weaker beings get out of more difficult situations. There was no way in hell he would allow any harm to come to Alec, so he was just as ready as Jace to face whatever situation may have arisen.

Not surprisingly, the Shadowhunter's senses were dead on as Magnus heard a slight shuffle come from the alleyway a few seconds later. His eyes searched the darkness, and relief flooded through him when he could discern the familiar outline of his Alec. There were no words to describe how he'd felt when his lover had appeared earlier - healthy and whole. He just knew that he'd had to fight an overwhelming urge to pull the man close and never let go.

"Alec, what happened?" Jace asked, his tone abnormally subdued. "You were alone with that - that fake for over fifteen minutes. I've heard of taking time for self-reflection, but that was taking it to a whole other level."

Alec shook his head dismissively as he neared. "I'll explain later, Jace." He stopped beside Magnus, expression somewhat stunned, and it took a lot of willpower for the warlock not to pull the man into his arms.

"Magnus, I need you to let him go."

"What? Why?" Magnus stared at his boyfriend, startled by the request.

"Please." Had Alec demanded or shouted that one word, Magnus wouldn't have been surprised. But as it was, the softly spoken plea, laden with sadness and defeat, affected him more than anything ever would. He snapped his fingers, and felt his magical bonds dissipate within the alley.

"Thank you."

Magnus gave his lover a slight nod in response. His eyes didn't leave the alley, his body tensed for action should that imposter do more harm. He didn't know what had happened between Alec and their captive, but he hated their prisoner even more now for causing his Alexander to look so ... so vulnerable.

The man walked out almost immediately, his appearance coinciding with the muted 'clink' of Jace's readied weapons. Magnus' magic sparked in preparation for a confrontation as well.

"Alec?" the blond hunter whispered apprehensively.

"No, don't, Jace." Although Alec spoke to stop his parabatai, he also placed a stilling hand on Magnus' upper arm, as if he knew that they were both anticipating a fight. Magnus found reassurance in that touch. He may not know or understand what had happened between the two Alecs in the alley, but he did trust his lover implicitly. And so, he stood down, and leaned into his Shadowhunter to show his support.

The imposter gave Alec a long look - one that Magnus couldn't decipher properly under the spotty streetlights - and Alec returned an assuring nod in answer. Then, their former captive ran off, his quick movements and straight bearing an exact mirror of the lover Magnus knew so well. But before he completely disappeared from view, the man looked back, and in that fleeting moment, Magnus was struck by the haunted quality in the imposter's expression - so much so that his chest constricted.

"What, in holy hell, was that?" he asked quietly. He wasn't sure if he was directing the question to himself in disbelief, or to Alec for explanation, but his boyfriend did give his arm another comforting squeeze.

"Come on, let's go," Alec said, exhaustion now creeping into his voice. "I'll explain on the way home."

(***)

 _"If you had to make a choice, Alexander Lightwood, right here, right now, would you choose to cut all ties with Magnus, leaving him to enjoy a long, eventful life, or would you choose to spend the next few years with him, knowing you'll live to see him die?"_

 _Alec stared at his doppelganger, and tried to temper the anger and impatience that warred within him at the words. Having been locked up in a room for several days, he was in no mood for games. "What? What are you talking about?" he asked harshly. He didn't care at all for what the man was implying._

 _But the imposter remained unaffected by his tone. Instead, his gaze was fixed straight ahead, his eyes steady, but strangely enough, unseeing. "Five years from now, tensions between the Downworlders and Shadowhunters will reach an all-time high," he said emotionlessly, as if he were reciting something he'd painstakingly memorized. "On May twenty-third, there will be simultaneous attacks against us around the world. Twelve Institutes will be hit. Four Downworlders here in the city will break through the wards and walk into the New York Institute and detonate a bomb that decimates the entire building. Hundreds of Shadowhunters will die, dozens in New York alone. And we declare war on the Downworlders."_

 _The story sounded made-up to Alec, like the embellished stories one would tell an adolescent to keep his attention. Plus, in addition to how ludicrous it sounded, there was no possible way those events would ever come to pass. "That makes no sense. That would never happen," he reasoned. "Besides, how would you know that anyways? Unless ..."_

 _Realization crept into Alec's mind like a meandering spider, slowly weaving an intricate, convoluted web. It couldn't be, could it? Every logical cell in his brain balked at the idea. The stony expression on his double's face did nothing to confirm his suspicions. But it didn't refute them either._

 _"You and your siblings will be in Idris at the time," the imposter continued. "But Magnus will be here. He will go to the Institute to help you, but the Shadowhunters there will label him a hostile."_

 _Alec's pulse sped up unexpectedly. Everything this person was saying sounded so far-fetched - a twisted fairytale from a twisted mind - but he had an idea where the story was headed, and even if everything had been made up, he didn't want to hear it._

 _"They kill him on sight. You ... you never get to say goodbye."_

 _"N-no." The denial left his throat involuntarily. He didn't even want to entertain the thought of losing Magnus. "No, that can't be true. That's just all made-up bullshit. I don't know what your game is, but -"_

 _"_ _ **I**_ _never got to say goodbye."_

 _Alec stopped when his captive repeated the words. It wasn't because he believed the man, or wanted to encourage the lies. No, it was because he was suddenly struck by the haunted, hopeless quality with which the imposter had spoken. Defeated and empty, as if all sparks of life had fizzled into a dying sputter - that was the impression Alec received from his double, and despite him doubting the validity of the story, he wouldn't wish the pain he'd just heard on anyone._

 _"I'm sorry." That was all he could say. What else was there to say?_

 _His prisoner didn't seem to have heard him. Instead, he remained still, the glassy quality of his eyes making Alec think the man was reliving some horrific memories. "Magnus only went to the Institute because of me, out of concern for me," he finally said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. "If we weren't together, he wouldn't have gone. He wouldn't have died."_

 _"What did you do?" Alec couldn't help but ask. He had wanted to remain impartial during this interrogation - get the information he needed, and then, punish the guy as the Law saw fit - but the man, with his strained tone, was falling apart, slowly but surely, and he ... well, he wasn't an animal. He may not have completely believed the tragic story, but the imposter did, and he felt sorry for him. The Law could wait, at least for a little while._

 _"I was lost, so lost without him. How long, I don't remember. The days just all blurred together. I pushed Jace, and Isabelle, and everyone away. But then, I came up with the perfect plan to save him. I had to go back in time, and end it - end us - before it got too serious."_

 _"What?" Shit, the man's story had just enough sense to be credible. Yet, a part of Alec refused to accept it. He didn't know why._

 _"I looked everywhere for a warlock who could make it possible. I looked for months. Some ran away the moment I got close. Some even tried to kill me." A twisted, humorless smile played on the imposter's lips at the recollection, the first actual change on the man's impassive face, but the emptiness of it disturbed Alec. "But I kept looking. I kept looking until I found her."_

 _"Who?"_

 _"Sandrine Dare, a young warlock who owned her life to Magnus. She agreed to send me back."_

 _Alec didn't recognize the name. He wasn't sure if Magnus had ever mentioned her either._

 _"But not far enough," the man said quietly. "I was supposed to go back to when we first met. You remember that, don't you?"_

 _He looked at Alec just then, that sharp gaze meeting his own dead on. Alec's breath caught unconsciously in his throat. He couldn't explain why. Those eyes, an exact mirror of his own - and yet, not - looked so broken... And Alec couldn't even begin to understand what the man had seen to bring him to that point._

 _"I couldn't do it. I couldn't go through with it. I tried. By the Angel, how I tried. We had all that time together, and I couldn't just ... And our son ..."_

 _"Son?" That startled Alec._

 _"I had to send Max away. Send him into hiding for his own safety. The Clave would've taken him," the imposter's voice broke, and Alec heard a stuttered breath from the man, as if he were trying to steady himself. "The memories are all I have. I can't give them up. I won't."_

 _Firmness and conviction laced those final words, and Alec wondered if that was what was holding his prisoner together right now. This whole time, he'd gotten the impression that the man walked along a dangerous precipice, held back from the edge by thin thread, and just a mere whisper from falling over into a dark chasm of insanity._

 _"So what does this have to do with the werewolf?" he asked. The territory into which they were venturing was making him uncomfortable. It played on fears he'd buried deep down, ones he didn't want to admit he had. But Downworlder business, policing Downworlder business - well, that he could handle._

 _"That werewolf, along with the three others I killed, will be the ones who'll walk into the New York Institute five years from now."_

 _"So you murdered Downworlders for crimes they haven't committed yet? I-I would never do something like that!"_

 _"Wouldn't you? To save everything you love, everything you care about? How far would you go?" The imposter's eyes narrowed, his voice hardening, almost accusatory. "You have no idea yet what you will be capable of, the extremes you'll go to. To save Magnus, to save Max..."_

 _Alec's hand tightened on his bow. The man was right, he conceded grudgingly. He just hoped that he would never be put in a position to find out. Perhaps it was naïveté, or denial, or even an unconscious bid for self-preservation, but he preferred to take this all in as some stranger's cautionary tale, something that would never happen to him._

 _"I came back with the intention of saving Magnus. But I realized that I'm weaker, and more selfish that I originally thought. Because I ... I can't lose what little time I had with him. Or Max." The night time shadows played off the bob of the man's Adam's apple as he took a moment to compose himself. "I don't know what'll happen now. The attack was global, so it'd be ignorant and arrogant of me to say that I stopped a war. But maybe, just maybe, with these Downworlders dead, the New York Institute might be saved. All I know for certain is that I want to keep my memories of my life with him. They're all I have. And if there's a chance, however small, that I can do that by killing these Downworlders, then I'll take it."_

 _Hollow eyes, just dark pinpoints of light in the dark alley, held Alec in place. "So, Alec, you now hold your future in your hands. Knowing what I just told you, what are you going to do?"_

 _Alec stood unmoving at the question. He opened his mouth to say something - perhaps accuse the man of asking a nonsensical question - but nothing came out. What the man was saying was bullshit. It had to be. Yet ... yet what if it was true? Could he risk it? Alec's heart twisted at the very thought. What was Magnus worth to him? What was he willing to sacrifice if it meant saving Magnus? His honor? His morals?_

 _He looked over at the alleyway entrance. Even though he couldn't see his lover, he could sense him standing there, just around the corner, steady, comforting, and safe._

 _Everything._

 _Magnus was worth everything._

 _Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he returned his attention back to his captive. The words that came out of his mouth next were emotionless, business-like, as if he were assigning a mission._

 _"I saw the werewolf heading west, three blocks down."_

 _And with that, he turned away from the man, and walked out of the alley without another glance._

(***)

He should've felt something more.

He looked back at the three shrinking silhouettes, unsurprised by his lack of emotion. This was a different life, a different world, and the Alec who stood back there was a different person. Life and circumstance hadn't yet destroyed him, hadn't ripped out his heart, and killed everything good and beautiful inside him. It hadn't left him nothing but a cold, empty hole inside his chest where he'd once felt so much.

And Magnus ... when he'd first seen him, touched him, he wanted to imagine that it had been his Magnus. It would've been so easy, so easy to slip into this life and pretend all was well. But no, he was different now. He'd seen and lived through things that had changed him in ways he couldn't put words to, and Magnus, this Magnus, deserved better than that. He deserved this Alec, this younger version of himself who was still full of innocence and hope. He could only believe that what he was doing would give them a chance at the happiness that he'd been denied.

"Goodbye, Magnus," he whispered to himself as he refocused on his course. He headed west as he'd been told, and with his senses still enhanced by the runes he'd applied from his earlier fight, he picked up the trail of the werewolf fairly quickly.

He didn't know for certain if what he was doing would affect anything, but he'd been telling the truth: it'd only taken him a trip into the past to realize that what memories he had of Magnus and their time together - of their many firsts, or their laughter and tears, and of Max - were more precious than anything else in the world to him. He couldn't give them up, and he didn't think the Alec here, in this time, would either.

His fate, after he killed the werewolf, was a mystery to him as well, although he could hazard a guess. He'd been feeling a little ... off lately, ever since he'd killed the two vampires. It was as if his mind was losing touch with reality, a momentary lapse that came and went unpredictably. The whole thing reminded him of that movie Magnus had made him watch once, the one about that kid who drove back into the past, and brought a younger version of his parents together. He wanted to believe that he was affecting the future like that kid had because anything was better than what had happened, and perhaps, after all this, everything would just ... cease. Blessed oblivion - if that was his reward, then he'd gladly take it.

He caught up with Newfield about a couple of miles west. The werewolf was shifting back into human form in the darkened doorway of a rowhouse, likely thinking it was safe. He moved quickly, and descended upon the naked form the moment the man shifted back. His seraph blade slipped easily into yielding flesh. He watched Newfield's eyes widen in surprise as he gasped his last breath. The warmth of the blood that dripped from the fatal wound and onto his hand burned his skin, but he didn't really feel it. In fact, he was rather apathetic as the life slowly drained away from the body skewered with his weapon. When that last flicker of life left the wolf, the only word he could find to describe his state of mind was relief.

It was over. It had to be.

He pulled his blade out, and let the body crumple to the ground. He stood frozen, and stared down at his last target.

Now what?

He didn't know how long he remained there - Seconds? Minutes? Hours? - but his paralysis was eventually broken by the clatter of his weapon falling to the cement landing. He looked down at his hand.

He was right. By the Angel, he was right.

For the first time in almost a year, he smiled. He smiled a genuine, peaceful smile as he slowly faded away.

(***)

Alec followed Magnus into the loft with a sigh that was equal parts exhaustion and relief. He shut the door gently behind him, and leaned back against it for momentary support. He was grateful Jace had agreed to hear the full explanation of everything from him tomorrow, and had gone off to do the clean-up Alec had belatedly requested. He could tell that his parabatai had wanted to question the orders because, well, who wouldn't when ordered to potentially hide the body of a dead werewolf? But his brother likely saw the weariness written on his face, and left well enough alone - for now. Magnus, on the other hand, was the one person he couldn't keep anything from, and so, he'd told him what he could on the way home.

"That, darling, would be a far-fetched story if I hadn't seen the evidence with my own eyes," the warlock said as he turned around with his usual flourish. There was that perpetual twinkle in his boyfriend's eyes he loved so much, and upon seeing it, Alec realized how badly he'd missed it these last few days.

Obviously seeing the fatigue in his posture, Magnus moved over and pulled Alec over toward the couch. "Coincidentally, I was just reading up on research I did some time ago about portals, and quantum physics, space-time relativity to be exact."

Alec threw his boyfriend a strange look as he let himself be pushed down onto the sofa. He was sure he'd filed those words away as things he'd never hear Magnus say.

"What?" the man in question protested innocently. "I know, I know, I make portal-creation look easy, but you wouldn't believe the actual calculations that go into it."

Alec chuckled quietly as Magnus sat down beside him with a long-suffering sigh. Then, his lover's expression turned serious. "What it reminded me of was this, Alec: the future is undetermined. The choices we make each day - whether you order a decaf coffee or not, whether you take a shortcut or go the long way - each one spawns an infinite number of realities. The Alec we met, he might just be one of many possible futures. Nothing is written in stone, and we can't know what will happen."

Warmth spread through the inside of Alec's chest as he listened to Magnus talk. He hadn't realized he'd been bottling up the guilt from his earlier decision, but somehow, Magnus knew, and his speech was meant to make him feel better.

And it did ... somewhat. "Did I do the right thing?" he decided to ask. "Letting him go, I mean. I just condemned an innocent Downworlder to death for a crime he hasn't committed yet. That's on my conscience, and something I'll have to bury and live with."

Magnus remained silent for a moment, and Alec experienced a frightening moment of panic where he thought his lover now despised him for what he'd done.

But then, Magnus took his hand, and intertwined their fingers, giving Alec the reassurance he hadn't known he needed. "I can't say whether it was right or wrong, darling. But _you_ did what _you_ thought was right, and I will always stand behind your decision, regardless."

Alec's vision blurred as the meaning of Magnus' words sank in. He was fairly certain it was exhaustion that had caused the tears to form. He blinked them away quickly, and leaned over to give the warlock a much-deserved kiss. Magnus tasted so warm and inviting, but this wasn't meant to be a seduction. No, it was something else entirely, so he kept it short and sweet.

Magnus watched him with heavy-lidded eyes as he pulled back. "What was that for?"

Alec looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. Shit, he always got a bit antsy when it came down to voicing his feelings. "I-I don't know," he started with a small shrug. "Because I wanted to."

The corners of Magnus' lips lifted up into a slow, knowing smile, and his whole demeanor softened. "Alexander, you never need a reason to kiss me," he said as he ran a hand through Alec's hair.

Alec angled his head into the touch, relishing the contact. If there had still been any lingering regret regarding what he'd done, it evaporated in that very moment like a wisp of smoke. To have saved Magnus, to have saved _this_ , he would've made the same choice over again.

"Now, before we do it again," Magnus pointed out sternly as he wrinkled his nose. "You, darling, need to take a shower. You smell horrendous!"

A loud laugh escaped Alec at the remark. He purposely pushed himself against his boyfriend, and gave him another - longer - kiss before making his way to the bathroom, a wide grin plastered on his face. The future may be undetermined, he thought, but this ... _this_ was real. And that was all he could ask for.


End file.
